Princess In Distress
by MissDoyle
Summary: Michael is back from Japan with news, and Mia is worried. Why is Lars acting so strange? Is Grandmere setting out to unintentionally ruin Mia's life, again? And what's the matter with JP? Rated T to be safe. Princess on the Brink spoilers.
1. Monday, September 7, Homeroom

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I am making no money out of this. The only thing I gain is the pleasure of writing.

A/N: Before we begin this story, I shall have to ask you to read a terribly long quote from a play. It has everything and nothing to do with this story. Also, I remind you that there are spoilers from Princess on the Brink. I also want you to know this is not really a chapter, more like a prologue. The next chapter is the real story. This also takes place during the beginning of Mia's senior year. If I get enough positive response, I'll continue.

_And yet he should be always ready to have a perfectly terrible scene, whenever we want one, and to become miserable, absolutely miserable, at a moment's notice, and to overwhelm us with just reproaches in less than twenty minutes, and to be positively violent at the end of half an hour, and to leave us for ever at a quarter to eight, when we have to go and dress for dinner. And when, after that, one has seen him for really the last time, and he has refused to take back the little things he has given one, and promised never to communicate with one again, or to write one any foolish letters, he should be perfectly broken-hearted, and telegraph to one all day long, and send one little notes every half-hour by a private hansom, and dine quite alone at the club, so that every one should know how unhappy he was. And after a whole dreadful week, during which one has gone about everywhere with one's husband, just to show how absolutely lonely one was, he may be given a third last parting, in the evening, and then, if his conduct has been quite irreproachable, and one has behaved really badly to him, he should be allowed to admit that he has been entirely in the wrong, and when he has admitted that, it becomes a woman's duty to forgive, and one can do it all over again from the beginning, with variations._

—Mrs. Allonby describing The Ideal Man in A Woman of No Importance by Oscar Wilde

On to the story…I mean prologue…

_Monday, September 7, Homeroom_

Oh my God.

_He_'s back.

What am I going to do?


	2. Monday, September 7, English

A/N: Yes, that was short, but this is a bit longer. I'm posting chapters as journal entries. The song lyrics mostly go along with the story.

_Why? Why are you still here with me?  
Didn't you see what I've done?  
In my shame I want to run,  
And hide myself…_

—BarlowGirl, I Need You to Love Me

_Monday, September 7, English_

JP keeps asking me why I look so pale. I think it's happening again. You know, the thing that happened after I stupidly broke up with _him_. My One.

I can't stop feeling like I'm going to throw up. I can't even talk. I can still write, of course. Writing is the one thing that I can do without having to feel like I should be doing something else. If that makes since. Which it probably doesn't, seeing as how I can't think of anything but Mi—_him_.

Like walking right up to _him_ and kissing him until we both can't breathe. But I don't think _he_'d let me do that. At least not without an explanation.

It's so strange. I haven't seen him in a year, and yet…I can still picture his eyes, his hair, his _lips_…

God, I'm such an idiot.

Oh, JP just tossed me a note.

_**Mia, what's going on? You look like you just ate a sock.—JP**_

Tina is such a nark. In a cute way, I mean.

Nothing's wrong. I think I just ate some bad bacon for breakfast.

_**Mia, I know something is wrong. I haven't seen you like this since…well, you know. I just don't like it. **_

JP, it's nothing. Seriously. I think it's the bacon thing. You know how I get when I overload on meat these days.

_**Mia, you're not the same since Michael left. Yes, I said it. He's messed you up. It's time you got fully over him. And started dating again. You haven't been out with one guy since he left. The reason you break up with someone is to be able to start dating again right?**_

Whoa. Is it just me, or did that make JP sound like a complete jerk?

Um, JP, that's not why I broke up with him. I thought he lied to me, and I just couldn't condone that. But I was wrong. When he left, I tried to apologize, but I didn't make it in time.

_**So…you still love him?**_

I love him more than anything else in this world. Living any longer without him would be unbearable. Life as I know it would cease to exist…But if I was with him, it would be fantastic. I wouldn't want to leave his side, and, like Princess Leia to Hans Solo, we were meant to be together…But I screwed it up. And I don't know if I can fix it.

I'll have to get back to you on that.

THINGS TO DO:

Buy cat litter

Need more face wash? Shampoo? Look in bathroom to check

Ask Dad for money to get Grandmère's Christmas present. (I'll need to get it now or they will sell out. A Limited Edition Chanel perfume will make her happy.)

Clean room

Write a letter to Michael??? Will he even read it??? Or will he burn it or something???

Start thinking positively.

Ask Lilly (Who has gotten over the whole kissing-JP-thing) if her brother is still mad. Or if he isn't mad, but…something worse?

Repeat number six.


	3. Monday, September 7, Lunch

A/N: If you're reading this, I have gotten a great, or at least good, response for the prologue and first chapter. Thanks!

―By the way, I made up the Sidekick 2.0 thing. It just seemed to me that Lars would get tired of his old one!

_I know when he's been on your mind_

_That distant look is in your eyes_

_I thought we'd find you realized _

_It's over, over_

—O-Town, All or Nothing

_Monday, September 7, Lunch_

In French, Tina asked if I'd heard Michael was back. When I told her, she looked at me sadly and said, "This is what happened in one of my books. _Forever, Never_ I think it was called. You see, the heroine made a mistake and drove away the hero. When he came back, he was engaged to this perfect supermodel-type person. In the middle, the heroine made this big gesture and made the fiancée angry enough to kill."

"You don't think Michael's engaged to a perfect Japanese supermodel do you?" I asked her.

"I don't know, but it's likely. You better be thinking of a big gesture soon, because Lilly told me Michael had a surprise he was going to tell the Moscovitzes tonight."

But then Mademoiselle Klein told us to be quiet and get back to reading Chapter One: Introduction to French IV.

And now, I'm trying to eat my spaghetti and meatballs while writing, and it's not very easy. My handwriting is horrible and I think I got spaghetti sauce on the cover of my journal. Anyway, spaghetti with meatballs is good. I don't know how I kept from eating meat so long. It's SO good!

I wonder if Michael knows that I eat meat now. Lilly probably told him. She also probably told him I've been going to see Beauty and the Beast on Broadway with JP as much as I can. I just hope she hasn't. JP and I are just friends, no matter what Lana and her cronies say.

Once I got to lunch, anyway, I asked Lilly if she thought Michael was engaged to a Japanese supermodel.

"Mia, you need to get over these insecurities," she said. "If I am correct, Michael still loves you as much as you still love him. But the way you ripped his heart in half might have a little effect on how much he loves you. I didn't take that into calculation. He kept asking me if you were going out with anybody, though."

"What did you tell him?" I asked her. She moved ahead a space in the line.

"Mia, get over yourself. I told him you were miserable without him."

"You did?!"

"No."

So now, I'm sitting here, wondering if I can handle myself if I see Michael. Every time I picture us meeting in my mind, I just jump him and smell his neck. Not that it's a bad thing, though. His neck would be the only thing that would keep me from having a mental breakdown. Although just seeing him again would be enough for my brain to start releasing another megadose of serotonin because I've missed him so much.

And then JP kept asking me if I would be able to meet him by Joe before next period. I told him I didn't think so because my locker is practically miles away from G&T and that we could meet at Ho's Deli after princess lessons. (Which I still have to go to, unfortunately.)

"But I need to talk to you before you get to the Plaza," he kept insisting. Lars and JP shared one of those looks. You know, the kind I once described as men learning them at birth or something. I hate those looks.

"Princess, I'll tell Mrs. Hill that you had a little emergency involving your brother if she's in the room when we get back," Lars whispered in my ear.

"But _Lars_," I whined. "What if a teacher sees us in the hallway?"

"Then I'll accidentally show my gun while reaching to scratch my arm," he whispered. And then he laughed quietly. "It's funny how that always works."

Then he went back to text-messaging people on his brand new Sidekick 2.0. Sometimes I just don't get him. At all. So I agreed to meet JP by Joe. He seemed relieved, but then he started looking nervous, and when Lilly went, "God, JP, what the hell is wrong with you?" he shrugged it off and said he had to go to the bathroom.

This reminded me of…me. I always go to the bathroom when I need to write and people are bothering me. Plus, JP took his composition book. This one was bright red and covered with stickers for a charity I've never heard of. JP could be my long-lost twin. He acts just like me sometimes. I think we even look alike, but when I mentioned this to Ling Su, she dismissed it. I trust her because of her artistic abilities and ability to see every small detail.

The bell's about to ring, so I better start finishing my spaghetti.

POEM TO MICHAEL—WHAT CAN I DO?

_Oh, Michael, I'm sorry for what I did._

_Can't you see I'd rather not live _

_Without you?_

_What can I do_

_To make this right?_

_I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight_

_Knowing this blight_

_I've forced upon you._

_What can I do?_

A/N: Wow, this looked so much longer on Microsoft Word. Sorry if the poem is causing you pain. I'm not exactly the world's greatest poet. Thanks for reading!


	4. Monday, September 7, Gifted and Talented

A/N: I'm afraid that this chapter isn't very long. I'm sorry, but it doesn't look like they'll get very much longer. I'll update frequently to make up for that. But that will mean the story will be kind of short, too. Things will happen quickly… but thanks for reading anyway! And thanks for the reviews, too!

_I'm not the one who broke you  
I'm not the one you should fear  
We've got to move you darling  
I thought I lost you somewhere_

—The Goo Goo Dolls, Here is Gone

_Monday, September 7, Gifted and Talented_

I can't believe this is happening. When he asked me to meet him by Joe, I thought he was going to tell me that he got front-and-center seats instead of box seats to Beauty and the Beast and ask me if that was okay. But then as I was walking towards the stairs leading down to the first floor, I realized he could have told me that in the hallway or something. It wouldn't exactly be a secret since People and Us Weekly take my picture every time we go together, usually saying stuff like,

"Looks like Mia has a new boyfriend!"

Or,

"Look out, Prince William, you have new competition!"

Or even,

"Mia's New Beau: Better than the Last One?"

And it just pisses me off. Like Prince William and I even like each other that way. Besides, he has a girlfriend now.

Anyway, I started freaking out before I got to JP, wondering what was so important and private that he asked me to see him alone as soon as possible. Did he realize that he loved Lilly after all and wanted to know if she still loved him? Or did he want to get his poems published and wanted to know if it was a good idea?

But I was wrong. So very, very wrong. This is the conversation that took place:

Me: So, JP, what is it?

JP: (very nervously) I wanted to ask you something.

Me: Okay…what?

JP: I have…a friend…

Me: A friend? And what is going on with you…I mean your friend?

JP: Well, he likes this girl and he doesn't know if the girl likes him back. Should he go right ahead and ask her out or just show her how he feels?

Me: Well, it depends on the girl, I guess. If she's shy you might—I mean your friend might—not want to go ahead and ask her. She might think he's making fun of her, you see?

Then I had a painful memory of when Michael showed me that computer program, the one with the castle and the roses and the banner. I'd thought he was making fun of me.

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_You may not know it_

_But I love you, too_

And I started tearing up. I couldn't help myself. And now, as I'm writing all this down, I'm starting to cry again. It's horrible. Something like that should be a good memory, not a bad one.

When JP saw that I was crying, he went, "Whoa, are you okay?" And he moved forward to give me a hug. But when he did that, I had stepped closer to him, because he was facing the street and I was facing the door, we collided.

And by colliding, I mean our faces. My cheek hit his nose, and he turned and pressed his lips to mine.

I won't lie. It felt good. After all, I hadn't been kissed since that time outside the chemistry class room, when Michael saw. But JP just wasn't Michael. I pushed him away and went, "It was me, wasn't it? The one you wanted advice for? You like me…"

"Mia, I'm sorry. I've been a coward. I wanted to tell you so long, but I couldn't find the courage," he whispered.

"JP, I'm the one who should be sorry…"

JP looked shocked—and hurt. "What? Why?"

"Because I still love Michael. I'm sorry, but you're just not him."

After that, I ran inside and waited for Lars to realize I'd gone in. He came in a couple minutes later.

"Princess, that young man tells you his feelings for you and you tell him he's not as good as Michael?" he asked as soon as we started walking to the G&T room. The hallway was deserted. The bell must have just rung.

"I know, but…," I said, "No one can measure up to Michael."

"Is that true?" Lars said. He still had his phone out. I thought that was a little weird.

"Yes. Michael and I belong together. Haven't I told you that a million times already?"

"Yes, Princess. I just wondered it you still believed that."

"Oh, Lars," I sighed. "What am I going to do?"

"Don't worry, Princess. It's being taken care of."

What does he mean, 'it's being taken care of'?! Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?! I just hope Grandmère doesn't have anything to do with this. Whatever it is.


	5. Monday, September 7, Limo

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews!

_Here in the shell of a sun  
we echo on  
Left alone forever  
All alone together_

—Vertical Horizon, Won't Go Away

_Monday, September 7, in the limo on the way to the Plaza_

This day keeps getting worse. Lars refused to tell me what is going on at least three dozen times, I failed a pretest in American Government, and I don't even know why they're making me take that class in the first place. And now Lilly is forcing me to come over to her place after princess lessons and help her tape a segment on her show—_Why Should Celebrities Be The Center Of Attention While Millions Of People Are Starving To Death?_—while her brother is in the apartment. Quite possibly, I will have to walk by him and even say hi.

And I don't know how I will be able to without jumping him.

Or smelling his neck.

Or breaking down and begging to be forgiven and promising to be his love slave, like that woman in the made-for-television movie about a waitress who kissed her boyfriend's brother at their mother's wedding.

Lilly says he'll be visiting some friends, but I don't believe her. She lies when it comes to things like this. I think she's trying to torture me endlessly while taping it and calling it "In Which Princess Mia of Genovia's Heart Gets Ripped into a Million Pieces While Being Forced to Share an Apartment with My Brother."

I'm just saying that's something she would do.

Anyway, I'm intending to find out what Lars is planning. If my grandmother is involved, I will seriously kill myself. Ugh, we're here.


	6. Tuesday, September 8, the Loft

…_The tears come streaming down your face _

_When you lose something you can't replace _

_When you love someone _

_But it goes to waste _

_Could it be worse?_

—**Coldplay, Fix You**

_Tuesday, September 8, the loft_

It turns out that I couldn't go to Lilly's last night. She's grounded because of her special last week, _Are Feet Sexy?, _in which she interviewed various people on whether or not they have sex with others because they have nice feet. A surprising amount of them said yes.

Anyway, Dr. Moscovitz found out and she said Lilly couldn't have any friends over until next Saturday. Lilly is furious. She says that it's her TV show and she can do whatever she wants with it. I'm not so sure her mother agrees, because she, along with the other Dr. Moscovitz, is paying for it. When I reminded Lilly of this fact, she was even angrier.

Sometimes I just don't get her.

I'm so glad that I didn't have to see Michael yet, though. Even knowing that we're sharing space in an apartment would cause me to have a nervous breakdown. Mom wouldn't like that very much. She's already pretty mad at me for giving up my vegetarianism for a guy, even if he is my One. I know she means her best, but she needs to keep her feminist stuff inside until the next group meeting.

When I got home from princess lessons yesterday, one of those meetings was in order. Mom and her feminist group were talking about my problems with my self-esteem.

Again.

"Mia seems to focus on relationships with men more that her relationship with her only true love, herself," was what Sherry, the newest member, had to say about me. "If you could talk to her, Helen, about that article we showed you, maybe she'll stop this wallowing and move on. No woman should be like this over a man! That's what those bastards want!"

Then they noticed me standing in the doorway and started talking about the Vanderbilts who became Suffragettes.

Despite what I've gone through since Michael told me he was leaving for Japan, I do not believe he is a bastard. I'm the one who screwed everything up, but people keep blaming him.

Because I'm a princess, and after all, aren't princesses supposed to always be the nice, perfect, honest girls who hardly ever do anything wrong?

Mom says that this isn't true, but I know what people think.

Michael was the one who screwed everything up by leaving me.

But I tried to stop him from saving, according to Yahoo! News, one-hundred and twenty-nine people so far with his invention. Not that I've been checking up on him.

Much.

Anyway, what kind of person would do that? I hate myself so much right now. Well, more often than now. More like every time I think about him.

In other words, always.

So, yeah, I think we have already established I am a loser.

My newest friends loves me, my best friend since forever is crazy, my bodyguard is acting strange, and my mother keeps talking to her friends about me even when I ask her not to.

I have no idea what's going on, as usual. At least Rocky is here with me through it all. Okay, he's sleeping on the futon beside me, but whatever. Nothing can get any worse. Until I get to school, anyway.


	7. Wednesday, September 9, Limo

_I feel like walking the world  
Like walking the world  
You can hear she's a beautiful girl  
She's a beautiful girl  
She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white  
Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember  
What you heard  
She likes to leave you hanging on her word_

—KT Tunstall, Suddenly I See

_Wednesday, September 9, limo on the way home from the Plaza_

Unfortunately, Grandmère didn't cancel princess lessons today. Instead, she told me this morning to bring something nice to wear and be prepared to have my makeup done. Like I would ever be ready for someone to paint my face with animal-tested chemicals that make me break out if I don't wash it off before I go to bed.

Anyway, I went into her new renovated penthouse and saw all these women rushing around with headsets and stilettos. It was a wonder they didn't trip, as I would have done.

"Grandmère, what's going on?" I sighed as I dropped down onto one of the couches across from her.

Grandmère gave me an evil glare, which I ignored. "Don't talk in that vulgar slang, Amelia. And sit up. We have company."

To my mom, company means a friend or two. Maybe even at least five people.

Grandmère's version of the word "company" meant about twenty people.

One of the women clattered over in her heels and said, "We're ready for the princess, now."

"Ready for what?" I asked cautiously.

"Why, for your interview, of course," the woman said, making it seem like I was supposed to have known about this.

I gaped at Grandmère. "What? You signed me up for some interview that I knew nothing about?"

"Honestly, Amelia. It's just one tiny little interview. It is not like your life is at stake here," Grandmère said in a puff of smoke from her one cigarette a day. "You had better become accustomed to it if you're going to rule Genovia one day."

"But Grandmère, I have the right to remain silent. I don't have to answer one question if I don't want to," I told her triumphantly.

Grandmère put her cigarette into the ashtray. "Amelia, I am not arresting you, and neither are these fine young women here. This is an interview with _Seventeen_ magazine about your life thus far. Now stop acting so _garce_."

One of the women gasped. The others looked at her, confused, and she whispered something to them.

"Fine," I said. "But don't expect to me to answer everything they ask."

I was so nervous that I don't remember what the questions were or how I answered them. I think I told them a little too much information. I don't think they wanted to know about Ronnie, for instance. I remember that one thing.

But I can tell Grandmère was pleased with the interview, judging by the way that she smiled as the women left.

I just hope I haven't made an idiot of myself.

Again.

Wait.

What does _garce_ mean?!


	8. Wednesday, September 9, the Loft

_Wednesday, September 9, the loft_

I just looked up _garce _in my French-English dictionary, and it means "bitchy"! My own grandmother said I was being bitchy!

Why is she so evil?!


	9. Thursday, September 10, Grandmere's

_Thursday, September 9, guest bathroom at Grandmère's_

I am going to kill Grandmère. I mean it this time, too. When I did the interview, I hated no idea they were TAPING IT! And now it's all over TV that the interview is going to come on tomorrow night! What if Michael sees it?!

Wait. Do I want him to see me saying that I still love him and that I am sorry? Because I'm sure that I did, even if it emotionally scarred me and my subconscious mind is trying to repress what happened.

I just want him to forgive me.

Anyway, I KNOW Grandmère did this on purpose. She probably wants me to realize I need to get over Michael. But that plan would only work if Michael does watch it.

Urgh. Grandmère is calling for me now.


End file.
